


Wasteland

by silentthewriter



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, I'll add more as I go, Romance, god i don't even know how to do this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:55:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23827192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silentthewriter/pseuds/silentthewriter
Summary: They've taught me that I'm worth nothing, only good for my body.A society separated by rich and poor. Where the poor are separated by male and female. We don't know anything else. All we know is a world where we have no control. A world where I am labeled because of where I was born and who my mother is. There is no hope for me.Unless I get out.
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Male Character





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been on this site for almost 7 years and this is the first time I ever post anything. It's actually kinda scary!
> 
> I've been working on this story for almost just as long and it's just been stuck with me since the beginning. During quarantine, I've been thinking a lot about it and wanting to continue it. I've had about 10 chapters ready for editing on my laptop and I figured I'd see if anyone would be interested. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy! Please tell me if there are any tags that should be added.

_It was a corrupt society._

_We were separated by rich and poor. The poor were separated by male and female. People living in such poverty they couldn't even put shoes on their feet let alone food on the table._

_And if you were a shelter kid, forget it. Once you turned eighteen, it was all over. You gave your body away without any choice and your life was no longer yours to live._

_But if you ask me, life didn't exist. Not in a world like this._

_But no one ever questioned it. This was our government, our society, our world. It was all we'd ever known and all we'd ever see. Once you're in, there's no way out._

_But I will escape. I will take my life back._

_Even if it kills me._


	2. I

_**Ray** _

You were supposed to come for serenity. To _be yourself._ If you were opposed to the wondrous conformities of society, then Underground was for you. It was amazing, really, the abundance of opportunities the place offered. By day, Underground was something like church. Or group therapy. A bunch of hippies sitting around, preaching about how _we_ are the change _. We_ need to band together against our shitty government. _We_ need to come up with a plan of action. A plan that will be built up, built up, built up, until the day of. Then the plan falls through the cracks because in reality, everyone is too scared of the powers that be. We would never escape this world.

But by night, Underground was freedom. Flashing lights that would blind you, a pulsing, redundant beat that was dared to be called music and pretty, colorful drinks that could knock out a horse with one taste.

I didn't go for any of that, however. I went for one thing.

I went because I wanted to feel like a normal a seventeen year old teenage girl. Because our high and mighty government didn't allow me to be.

Status was literally everything. The rich and the poor were separated into the East and West village.

In the West Village, we were separated by males and females. We went to different schools, shopped in different stores and even walked on separate sides of the street. Boys lived with their fathers, girls with their mothers. It was only on special days and holidays that the two ever mixed.

In West Vill, either you live in hiding or you're picked up and put in a home. Consider yourself lucky if you're on the run because being sold to lonely, rich men for sex in the shelters doesn't sound like much fun. The shelter boys have it easy. Once they turn eighteen, they are sent to serve the wealthy. But if you were a daughter born to a whore, well you were the unluckiest of them all.

I'm one of them. A shelter kid. I don't know my biological father. I have brothers but I don't know any of them either. All I knew was that my father was from the East Village. He was rich, but probably didn't know I even exist. Good thing, because I don't want to know someone like him anyway.

Underground was like a speakeasy. It was literally in a secret building underneath the streets and it was the only place where equality lived and you could get some without having to pay or be forced into it. It was illegal but until I was caught and officially charged, I would continue coming to have a little bit of fun before it was taken.

"You're so beautiful."

Moisture lands on the side of my face—in my ear—and I can't tell if it's sweat or spit. Probably both. The guy who's leaning against me has what feels like all of his weight on me as he pins me against the club wall. He has an okay face and an _extra_ nice body but he's too into it. Leave it to me to attract a first-timer.

"Thanks." I get out, chasing his lips. If I distract him, he won't talk. Then we can get this over with and I can be back in bed before The Mothers wake up.

"I mean, truly beautiful. Most beautiful girl I've ever seen."

"How many have you seen?"

There's a pause. "Not many, but still. My friend brought me here tonight to see his girlfriend. They've been seeing each other since they were fourteen. I didn't even want to come but thank God I d-"

"You talk _a lot._ " I say and then I drag his face into my neck.

Buttons start popping open and it starts getting a fraction better when the music cuts off suddenly and the lights turn up. Meathead stops, confused but I am on high alert. I shove him away without a second thought of keeping him safe. All I'm focused on is the exit.

I rush forward but come face-to-face with stern faces and guns. One officer, not much older than me, grabs me by the hood of my jacket. As he gets ready to drag me forward, I slip my arm out of one sleeve. In one swift movement, I'm in nothing but a thin camisole and I'm already sprinting to the exit.

The streets are wild with sirens and sprinting teenagers. I duck down into an alley, pulling a nearby fire escape down and climbing before it can hit the ground.

I manage to make it back home without getting caught. I climb the branches next to my window with ease. My feet hit the hardwood floor silently before I strip out of my clothes and slip into bed.

"You're in trouble." The sing-song voice of my house sister and roommate wakes me up. The thirteen year old is standing over my bed, three inches from my face.

I wipe the invisible sleep from my face. "Why?" I slur, kicking the comforter away from my body.

"Mother Cathy thinks you were out of bed last night."

"You didn't tattle, did you Leanne?"

" _No,"_ Leanne whines. "I think one of the babies rat you out. You should be more careful. But Mother doesn't know for sure so you may be in the clear."

I sigh; I could get out of this one easily. Mother Cathy was the head of the teenage floor and I was the only who challenges her. She gave up on me the second I arrived almost five years ago when I turned thirteen and switched from the children's floor. I was her responsibility for just a few more months now and then she wouldn't have to care.

I know right away which girl told on me. When I arrive down to breakfast late, one of the ten year olds looks up at me and when we make eye contact, her eyes immediately fly down and she is deeply interested in her toast for the rest of breakfast.

When we are sent away for chores, Mother Cathy calls me to stay behind. Leanne squeezes my arm in reassurance before disappearing to clean the kitchens.

"Good morning, Mother, how are you this morning?" I ask with a sickly sweet smile. Mother Cathy doesn't find me amusing if her stress wrinkles are anything to go by.

"I'm going to ask you and I'm going to ask only once. Where were you last night Rayna?"

After years of lying, my acting skills are above and beyond. "In bed, like everyone else." I pass off an easy laugh. "Where were _you_ Mother?"

"You're having trouble understanding, aren't you?" Mother Cathy snaps. "You are just a few months away from eighteen, you know your fate. You cannot afford to get caught, Rayna. All it takes is one little infraction. You're too close to eighteen. They'll charge you as an adult and send you to work right away. You'll be treated as a criminal and won't receive the services you would have."

"Yes, I'm sure a whore house has many luxurious accommodations to offer me."

Mother Cathy sighs in defeat. "Your charm won't benefit you forever, Rayna. Are you going down to the shelter today?"

"Yes," I say and give a slow smile. "Any chance there's cake left from Leanne's birthday?"

Mother eyes me. "Do you think you deserve cake?"

"I could always steal something from the bakery."

I don't admit to myself the bit of hurt I feel every time Mother Cathy looks at me like she's disgusted; like she's given up.

Nonetheless, Mother Cathy packs a big slice of chocolate cake and hands it off to me with a reminder to be back by supper—but she doesn't even glance at me.

It stays in the back of mind, what she said. I came too close to getting caught the previous night. If I hadn't gotten away, I would have been getting prepped right this moment to be put on the market. A shudder runs through me.

I clutch the plate of cake in my hand and walk over to the woman sitting at a wooden table, waiting for me. She looks exactly like me and I smile. Because out of all of the unhappy things in my life, knowing there is someone waiting for me each week is a silver lining.

"Rosa." I say quietly as not to startle her. She still jumps but her eyes light up and she beams when she sees who disturbed her.

"Ray, I missed you!" She says excitedly, pulling me down for a tight hug. Through her thin gown I can feel she's nothing but ashen skin and bone. I'm too scared to hug her at tight as I want because it feels as if she'd turn to dust right in my arms. "You weren't here last week and I was afraid."

I smile sadly. "I had to finish up testing in school. I'm sorry I worried you. But I'm here now."

"How did you do?"

"I graduated." I say, squeezing her hand.

"Wonderful! I've always known how bright you are, I am so proud. Do you get a ceremony?"

"No," I bite my lip. "Only the East Vill kids do."

"Oh," Rosa's frown lines are deeper each time I visit. They crease her face in intricate lines that fold into each other and make her appear older than she is. "Well, we'll have a celebration of our own. Come sit. You owe me a game of checkers."

I watch my Rosa's every move. The way her hand quivers as she brings a forkful of cake to her mouth. How her fingers struggle to grip her checker piece. Her hair is brittle, like straw, and her face is far older than her years. She doesn't just look old; she looks sick.

"What's wrong Ray? You're frowning."

I snap out of my thoughts and look up from the board at my mother. "Nothing, I'm just—I missed you. Are they treating you right? Feeding you well?"

She shrugs. "As well as they can. How about you? Those stuffy old women treating you alright?" Her eyes crinkle with humor and I laugh.

"Yes, it's alright." I reply.

The face across from mine is solemn. "You only have a few months left."

My throat goes dry. "I know." I watch Rosa strategically take one of my pieces, shuffling it to the side. "Maybe when I come here, we'll be roommates." I try to joke. But there's nothing funny. It's all too real.

She frowns. "They cannot just shove you into this life because of me."

"They can and they will."

"You're the only one of my kids to ever come visit me. I haven't seen any of your brothers since they were born. I wish I knew where they were. You are my only girl, did you know that?" I nod my head, pretending that I don't hear this story every single week. "When you came out and they told me you were a girl, I'd never felt so much fear in my life. Even when they brought me here when I was your age, I had never been so scared. I prayed every night before you were born. I would never wish this life on even my worst enemies. I only got to hold you for thirty seconds before they ripped you away from me. And I thought I would never see you again."

"Please don't-"

"You are my greatest blessing, Rayna. I thank God every day that you come see me every week. Whenever they send me to a client or on nights when I'm cold and lonely, I think of you. I think of when I'll see you next. I think of how wonderful you are and I think of how wonderful you can be. You _will_ be. You need to get out."

"What are you on about? Out where?"

My mother was rambling now. Her mental health deteriorated years ago and it was hard to tell when what she was saying was imaginary, things she made up in her mind when she was alone.. "You need to get out. You don't deserve this life; look at me. I'm not healthy. I'm slowly dying. I'm already dead.You only have a few months left to escape."

"Rosa," I say. "There is no escape. I wish there was but there's not. I can't get out. I'd get caught before I even stepped foot out of bounds. And even if I did make it, it's nothing but wilderness. I'd be dead in days."

"No, Rayna, there are people out there. They're just like you and they'll take care of you. It was too late for me but you still have time. But be quick, because your time's running out. Do you understand? Promise me, Ray. Promise me you'll try to save yourself. Even if it means I never see you again, you have to try to save yourself. _Promise me."_

"I promise." I choke out to calm her down. A bell sounds indicating that visiting time is over. I am one of the only visitors who come weekly. It's a bragging right my mother has and uses well. I kiss her on the head. "Get some sleep; I'll see you next week. Enjoy the rest of the cake."

"Don't let me down!" She calls after me. "Don't break your promise!" She sounds like a small child and it's harder than usual to drag myself away from her room and back home.

______

_**Officer Riley** _

The sun greets me early on my day off and I really wish it hadn't. My roommates are up and out, getting stuck with the shitty early morning patrol. I nod at my fellow officers as I make my way through the halls and out of the government building.

I balance my gun on my shoulder and wait as the West Village gate creaks open in front of me. I look straight forward, chin tipped toward the sky and I can feel scared eyes on me as the crowd parts to let me through. The uniform gives me power but the gun validates it. It's a bit like a game to me because none of these people know that I'm off duty and just here to see family. I've never even shot anyone. In fact, I'm even terrified to. I'd only been a Patrol Guard for a few months.

As I walk through town, I take in the sites of the rundown buildings. Little girls are across the street in the public schoolyard, literally playing in dirt. Some with no shoes, some in gowns too light for the chilly weather.

I cut the line in the bakery (because I can) to pick up cookies for my mother when it happens. One minute I'm paying the cashier and the next, I have a girl pinned to the ground with my butt of my gun. There's yelling and she's staring up at me with terrified, wide eyes. The bread she was hiding under her baggy sweatshirt is spread all over the floor.

The terror is soon replaced by defiance and she tries to make a run for it.

My mind shuts down and I become aggressive. I take the girl by the arm, making sure she can't escape, and forcefully bring her to her feet. "Come with me." I grunt in her ear, dragging her out of the bakery.

I can feel her shaking harder than I've ever seen. She's trying to resist, trying to pull her way free, but my grip is too strong.

I should take her to the headquarters. I should arrest her and charge her and let them do what they want with her. Then I can go enjoy the rest of my day with my mother. But I don't.

We dip into an alleyway and I press her up against the bricks. I look down at the band across her arm, a mandatory accessory that lets me know that she's a shelter kid. A stray animal. "You do realize," I say lowly. "that I should be taking you in. You should be in a shelter by nightfall."

"I-I know." Her voice shakes as hard as she does and she doesn't meet my eyes. The determination as her eyes glare at the concrete lights in the pit of my stomach. She's angry as if she has a right to be when she truly doesn't.

I take note of the way her sweatshirt hangs off of her like a drape. There is barely anything holding this girl together. "Why were you stealing bread? Do they not feed you in your home? Because that needs to be reported." She doesn't answer and she still doesn't meet my eye.

"I asked you a question." I tap her chin with a finger and she finally looks up with malice in her eyes.

"And if I tell you they don't? What will that change?"

"We can help you."

"Yes because you and your mighty government have done so much to help me." She realizes the line she's crossed and sets her mouth in a thin line. "They treat me just fine." She mumbles.

"Then why are you stealing? Just feeling rebellious today?" The girl is back to silence and I realize she's trying to cover up for someone.

"Who were you going to bring it to?" No answer. "Just tell me. I'm not going to hurt you or them. You have my word."

We make eye contact. "Your _'word'_ means nothing to me." She spits. I had been inside and toured the West Village shelters before during training. They rarely ever cared for their women.

"I should charge you twice. For theft and for resisting arrest." Her eyes are confused and I continue. "That was very smart of you, the way you escaped the raid the other night. Illegal, but pretty damn smart." I let her go, ready if she tries to run. I've already decided I'm not going to report her but I do want to talk. I want to hear her story. I watched her face twist in realization as she remembers that I almost caught her that night. "What's your name?"

She watches me with shifty eyes. I see her glance down the alley and back up to me. "You won't make it far." I say. I grab her wrist this time for good measure. "So just tell me what I want to know and we can go from there. Let's start with your name."

She clears her throat. "Rayna. But I go by Ray. Are you going to arrest me?"

I pretend to think about it and then shrug. "Nah."

"Why?" She's still not convinced.

"Because it's my off day and taking you in will be too much work. I'd have to fill a bunch of reports out and it seems that you've never been in trouble before so," I grin slightly, "Also, I woke up in a good mood this morning."

Ray visibly loosened up. "Lucky me." She said through clenched teeth. She pulled on her arm. "Now let me go."

I let go of her arm, smiling a bit. "I still have a couple of questions." She rubs at her arm and crosses both of them over her chest. "Fine." She says, tilting her head up towards me. She was hostile once again, fight-or-flight kicking in. It was the same alertness I saw at the club.

"Are you stupid?"

Ray raises her eyebrows incredulously. "Excuse me? Why are you even in West if you're not on duty?"

"You are in no place to ask questions." I say seriously. "I could change my mind about arresting you. Why aren't you in school?"

"I graduated early."

"So you're smart. Why aren't you working?"

Her shoulders deflate. "I'm still seventeen." She says quietly. My eyes travel down to the band on her arm and back up to her face. "I'm not really in a rush to start working yet. I'm sure that much you can understand."

"Who was the bread for?"

Ray's jaw clenches. "Me. I was hungry. You know how the foster homes are. Like jail; only three meals a day. No more, no less. Or maybe you don't know, being a government robot and all."

I smirk. "Do you like getting yourself into trouble?"

She shrugs. "I'm a rebel without a cause."

She has a front up; a rock hard one that is impossible to get through. She's pushing and pushing to see how far she can go. I don't believe for one second that she wasn't stealing for someone. I stare at her and suddenly I know what I can do. I put my rucksack down; pulling out the box of cookies I just bought. "Do you like cookies?"

"I can't take those from you."

I take Ray's hands, placing the box in her palms. "I insist."

She opens the lid and her eyes light up like she's never seen something so beautiful. "I can pay you back, just-"

I close my hands over hers. "They're just cookies, Ray." Her name floats off of my lips perfectly. "Don't worry about it okay? Consider it a graduation gift. "

She nods. "Thanks a lot, Officer. I appreciate it, really."

"Max. My name is Max." I say. Officer sounds weird in my ears. "I hope I don't see you in these circumstances again okay?"

Ray thanks me again and quickly moves back down the alley, stopping to glance at me. I tip my head and emerge out onto the street once she's gone. I stop on the way to my mother's for some flowers to replace the cookies.

There's lunch waiting for me when I get to the house. I wrap my mother up in a big hug. "I've missed you so much. I hate not being able to come every day like I used to."

"You're a working man now." She replies. She clutches my face in her hands. "How are you? Are they treating you okay up there? Why are you wearing your uniform on your off day? They're not too mean are they?"

"One question at a time, Mom." I chuckle, shrugging. "Even when I'm not on duty, I'm always working. I'm fine, really. It's a lot of hard work but I really like what I do. I have a family name to upkeep, don't I?"

My mother smiles but it's tight around the corners. "Let's eat, shall we?"

"Do you know a girl named Rayna? She goes by Ray." I ask as we set the table. The girl was intriguing, really. I wondered if she would've reacted the same way if an on-duty, more experienced officer was on patrol. She was asking for a death sentence if she had.

Underground was a filthy place for a bunch of desperate teenagers who thought it was cute to fuck around with the law. Those kids were idiots if they thought they could find anything meaningful in a shithole like that.

It wasn't that they deserved better. Who the hell was I to know what anyone in this world deserved? Our world was how it was and we couldn't change it. We all wear something to show our worth. I have my uniform and Rayna has her band. That was what decided what we did and didn't deserve. They were stupid if they thought any ridiculous club could change all of that.

"Rayna..." My mother thinks about it. "She was quite infamous. I never taught her but I heard a lot about her. She was extremely smart, almost a genius. She just graduated early, I believe. But she was always getting suspended and getting herself into trouble. Headed nowhere fast, it was sad."

"Most shelter kids are like that. They know where they're headed so they don't even bother."

She sighs. "Our government believes in forcing things not even they can control."

Conversations like this made me uncomfortable. My mother and I were the only living ones left in our family. I was raised with one way of thinking; the government way. My mother could have lived a life of perfect in East Vill with the rest of the government families. But instead she chose to teach in West. Because she held a lot more goodness than my father ever could.

My fate was decided the second I became my father's son. And after he died, it became my job to take over. To live by the rules. Any other ideas were foreign to me—were wrong.

*

"Riley."

I sit up straight from my spot slouched on my mattress when my supervisor enters the bedroom. "Hello, Commander Sullivan. Easy day today?"

"Not a lot of trouble." He nods. "How's your mother?"

"Good, thank you for asking."

"Care to tell me what happened in the West Village bakery this afternoon?"

I swallow. "I'm sorry?"

"A report came in from the manager that something was stolen but an off-duty officer was there to take care of it. The only off-duty officer stationed in West Village today was _you._ "

"It was just a misunderstanding with a young kid. I cleared things up but I didn't feel that an official arrest was necessary on a child who didn't know better." I lie right through my teeth.

I'm eyed skeptically. "I see. As a newbie, you should find it important to know that any misdemeanor that goes unreported can and will find you deemed just as responsible. And I do mean _any_ misdemeanor. Your father had quite the reputation around here, kid. I wouldn't find it in your best interest to screw it up."

My jaw clenches. "I wouldn't dream of it, Commander."

"Give your mother my best the next time you see her will you?"

"Of course." I spit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here it is! If you're reading this, I hope you liked it! I'll probably post a few more chapters this weekend. 
> 
> Have a great day!


End file.
